Friends, Relatives & The Amway Scheme

I am one of those lucky people blessed with a multitude of relatives on both sides of the family. Sometimes I believe that it is virtually impossible to be aware and keep track of all of the individual units that make up each clan, for it seems that every second, a new nephew or niece (or second cousin, third cousin, or what not) is born somewhere in the world. I suppose that I should be thankful that I am able to immediately fill in that next of kin section on those forms; or that I would always have some place to crash when visiting another state, region, or country. But sometimes, I don't feel so lucky.

Recently, I was at a family gathering and found myself gravitating toward a particular group of relatives; it's always the same group. Of course, there really isn't anything wrong with this per se. But, when I don't even try to identify that unfamiliar four-year-old girl running around the buffet table, or that group of teenagers playing a board game in the family room bearing faces vaguely recognizable, or the couple in the corner where the familiar-looking female waves to me with glee-- it somehow feels wrong.

A couple of similarly-aged cousins or second cousins-— individuals with whom I succinctly remember spending whole summers when I was young—- would arrive, and I would casually vacate the room, almost to the point of ensuring that I wasn't seen or noticed being there. I'd feel relieved for a moment, relishing a flawless escape from people who, despite many an escapade shared in years past, have all grown up to have very little in common with me. We've come to possess enough dissimilarity that I would almost avoid all contact with them during the party, save for a casual glance or two. And I'd feel guilty for the satisfaction this would bring me.

Furthermore, I think I should feel rotten if I could easily divide my relatives into distinct groups: the bearable, the unbearable, and the inconsequential. A fourth category—- reserved only for those with whom I wouldn't even think twice about not socializing-— requires no label. Naturally, since some of them go to this website, I could not even fathom actually creating these lists. Based on my interactions with them, or lack thereof, somehow I think they would know in which category they would be included.

My relatives really can't do much about which category they belong to since the decision isn't theirs to make. And there really isn't anything inherently wrong about each category anyway. Except, perhaps, the inconsequential category which is for those relatives who, no matter what they do (or don't) really don't have much of an impact on me. To put it plainly, if I were a pile of feathers aching to be ruffled, these relatives wouldn't even be able to muster up a breeze. I know this sounds awful—- and maybe even innately evil—- but it isn't my fault they exist.

I suppose one could also apply these categories to friends and acquaintances. In my case, there would be a fifth category—- called beer buddies—- which, after much imbibing, makes all the other categories irrelevant.

And just when you thought there couldn't possibly be another category, let's not forget the final one: the Amway. You know the type: "Hey, how are you doing? Haven't talked to you in a while. Hope everything's okay. Listen, I need a favor..." Please don't mistake my mentioning this category as an opportunity to broadcast any disdain. After all, I know I am some people's Amway. In fact, I have the utmost respect for these people because no matter what happens they will always remember you when they need you. And it's nice to be needed.